Hey guys, I'm Delia and this is my first story, so pleaseplease rate and review if you can, it'd be so helpful! I always love hearing other people's perspectives on what kinds of things they'd like to see happen or how they'd like the story to go, so please feel free to leave suggestions. And without further ado, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or it's characters. This is purely for entertainment purposes.
Chapter One.
It was 9:03am, and a very wet Tony DiNozzo had just walked into the bullpen, with a dripping bakery bag in hand and an unhappy expression on his face. Without even saying hello to the two agents already seated at their desks, he neatly tossed the soaked paper bag straight into the trash can and then plopped down in the chair behind his own untidy desk.
"Good morning to you too, Tony," Ziva smirked at him, watching him as he peeled off his wet coat and hung it to dry on the back of his chair.
"It is not a good morning! It was not supposed to rain!" Tony whined, making small puddles of rainwater on the floor as he shook the wetness out of his hair. "First off, my croissant got all wet, and to top it off, I didn't bring an umbrella, so now I look like I took a swim in the Potomac."
McGee, whose own umbrella and rain boots were carefully tucked beside his desk, just tsked in response.
"Should have checked the Weather Channel, Tony, would've saved you a lot of trouble," he teased, making Ziva chuckle as the two of them watched Tony root around in his desk drawers for spare clothes.
"Ugh, don't give me that whose-fault-is-that speech, McGeek, you sound like a soccer mom," Tony retorted grumpily. "And you guys won't find this so funny when you find out that I caught hypothermia or something…"
McGee just sighed at Tony's exaggeration, but nevertheless opened one of his own drawers, deciding to take pity on Tony.
"Here, catch," he called to Tony, throwing him one of his own spare sweatshirts, which Tony caught mid-air.
"Uh, did I say 'McGeek'? I meant McAwesome!" a grateful Tony said in his own version of saying thanks. McGee mumbled "yeah, yeah" under his breath, and Tony had just pulled off his damp shirt to change when Gibbs strode into the office, as brisk as professional as any other day and with the ever-present coffee cup in hand. He didn't say anything, just glanced over at the shivering Tony and at the puddles of water he had tracked into the bullpen, shook his head, and continued on to his desk.
"Uh, this isn't what it looks like, boss, I just-" a shirtless Tony began, but Gibbs cut him off.
"Grab your gear, dead petty officer found on the U.S.S Adams last night," he said, opening his drawer and retrieving his gun, badge, and car keys. "You have two minutes to change, DiNozzo," he added exasperatedly as he swept by Tony and towards the elevator. McGee followed suit, his bag of gear already slung across his shoulder, but Ziva lingered behind.
"Here, this should warm you up," she said consolingly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with one hand and placing a steaming coffee cup on his desk with the other. "It's fresh, and I didn't drink any of it yet." When Tony gave her an incredulous look at her generosity, she just shrugged her shoulders. "Looks like you need it more than me, no?"
Tony finally managed to pull on McGee's sweatshirt and met Ziva's eyes, pleasantly surprised by her gesture.
"Agent David," Tony began as he picked up the hot cup and let it warm his fingers, a smile curling the corners of his lips, "I think you just officially became my favorite agent at NCIS."
Ziva hitched up her gear backpack on her shoulder and gave him one of her teasing smiles.
"Is that all it takes to win you over, Tony, a cup of coffee? You're easier than I thought…"
Tony just chuckled, grabbing the coffee as well as his own gear backpack and leading the way to the elevator to meet a waiting Gibbs and McGee. So maybe I was wrong, Tony thought as he watched Ziva out of the corner of his eye. Maybe this morning wasn't so bad after all.